Sᴛᴇᴘ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ
by Shattering Desire
Summary: Finding out that Greek myths, aren't actually myths, and that the monsters from those not-myths want to kill him, Averel Darnell wasn't horrified. Oh, no. He couldn't be more ecstatic if he tried. Rated T for LANGUAGE Pairing hasn't been decided for Averel yet, but it will be a slash one, so feel free to suggest a Demigod! Sᴀɪɴᴛs ʀᴏᴡ & ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴄʀᴏssᴏᴠᴇʀ


Honestly, if his scent is as potent as these goat-men say it is he was curious as to why he hadn't been attacked sooner. And by attack, he doesn't mean by whatever tends to attack the Saints either; he doesn't pay much attention who or what attacks the Third Street Saints, so long as he gets a piece of the carnage himself.

Oh, no.

He is talking about bona fide monsters; monsters straight out from myths – or, to be precise, from the GREEK myths. And to be frank with you; Averel couldn't be more ecstatic if he tried.

* * *

Ｓａｉｎｔｓ Ｒｏｗ

Ｐｅｒｃｙ Ｊａｃｋｓｏｎ ａｎｄ ｔｈｅ Ｏｌｙｍｐｉａｎｓ

* * *

"I'm getting kinda hungry," Averel Darnell, a psychotic, eighteen-year old Canadian born that moved to Stilwater when his father had gotten a job promotion – which he had thought was complete bullshit, but whatever – when Averel was about eight. "Wanna go to Freckle Bitch's after this, Bobby?" He questioned his comrade in arms, ducking into the alley for cover to avoid being filleted by bullets.

Bobby, a twenty-two year old man with major anger problems that he takes out on the enemies of the Saints, hmm'd quietly as he jumped out of the alley and begun shooting at the gang noobs that think they can take on a couple of Saints. Pshh, as if! The Saints don't recruit just anyone, people! (Well, okay, maybe they do sometimes.) "Sure, why not? We'll have to hand in a report to the Boss about these upstarts first, though."

Shrugging, Averel replied, "Well, let's get this over with," before he ran out of the alley, with Bobby right behind him, and begun smashing people's faces in with a cackle.

* * *

Bobby ended up _not_ going to Freckle Bitch's with him, because Bobby took a switchblade for him. In the leg, of course, Bobby ain't gonna get stabbed anywhere unless he has no choice; they may be pretty close, but he's only gonna willingly take a stab elsewhere for the Boss.

Averel understood that. Hell, he'd do the same himself.

But anyway, when he arrived at Freckle Bitch's, the first thing he did was park the (stolen) motorcycle (from yet another idiot trying to take him down, pfft,) and hurried on in and ordered what he wanted to eat. The second thing he did was look around and noticed how… bare of costumers there were, even though it was still around 9 PM. Usually it'd be more packed, but he shrugged when he was called on by the employee at the counter that his order was ready and went to go sit at a table once he grabbed his meal.

Randomly, Averel begun thinking of his father once he took a bite of his hamburger, and thus that sow of a woman he married filtered in as well, causing him to grimace and swallow down the chewed food in his mouth. He really didn't know why his father married that woman, she's verbally abusive – as Averel had threaten to gut her like one would wild game and then some after he had caught her hitting his father with one of her stilettos – before and after they had married, but at least she's too frighten of him to do anything more than snap out verbally.

To get his mind off that _woman_, he looks out the clear glass to watch the occasional car drive by or go towards the drive-thru while nibbling on some fries. The cold fury still lingers deep within his gut, churning and twisting - rusty brown orbs widen; it always stayed with him when something was about to go wrong, a **_warning_** – Averel sat up straight from his slouch and turned his head towards the door when he heard the door squeak and chime. He didn't see anyone entering the parking lot, why didn't he see these punks?

Punks they were, trying to pretend they're part of the Saints; well, he has words for them – they are wearing the wrong colour, they've obviously didn't do their homework before going out and buying the wrong shade of purple. Only an official Saint is actually allowed to wear it the true colour in Stilwater, but _it is still the wrong colour and their pretending to be_ **Saints** _with it?_

One of the little dipshits caught sight of him – which is really odd, considering his hair is dyed Saint purple, they should have noticed him the first thing when they walked up towards the door – and sneered, "Whatcha doing, wearing our color, you little shit?"

Oh fuck no! He's gonna set these little shits right, if it's the last thing he does! And that shade is not even close to Saints purple! It's off by one or two shades.

However, seeing some of the idiots catching sight of his eye colour, he decides to fuck with them before he shows them their place; groaning and groveling on at his feet. Averel plastered on a look of shock and gasped, left hand grabbing at his hair whilst throwing in his Canadian accent, "Oh! Really? You'll have to forgive me, I am new to the city," Pfft, _nope!_ "And I had my hair dyed before leaving my home country," here Averel shifted his face to look pensive and worried, "Honest. I didn't know that I was wearing a couple of idiots colour." He lost the mask he donned on and had a smirk stretching onto his lips as he watched the little shits go red.

"AYE! YOU BE DISSING THE SAINTS, MAN!"

Averel scoffed, he decides to check something before he does anything damaging.

"What does _FDNS_ stand for, and what is the full name for it? Every Saint knows this after joining, as it is essential." _Not really, just a code Boss made up for when he's hungry, _but **THEY** don't know that. The eighteen-year stood up to his full height and smirked when those losers relaxed when they saw he was smaller than they were; height-wise, anyway. Otherwise? _PFFFFFFT_ – as if! Either way, he watches with that confident smirk stretching his lips as they arrogantly approach him with an air of superiority.

Didn't even feel bothered to answer his question, too.

How rude.

* * *

A/n: Just because I could. It is strange though, how this was inspired by this one AMV, called " 【AMV】ＣＡＮＤＹ ❤ ". I don't really know how or why precisely, but whatever it was, boy, am _I_ ever happy that this plotbunny struck me! On a side note, please know that Averel is two years older than Percy thus making this around the time _**The Last Olympian**_ happens. KEEP IN MIND THE GENRE IS _HUMOR!_ And if there is going to be a pairing, it'll be a slash one, but I haven't decided yet, so feel free to suggest a Percy Jackson Demigod!


End file.
